


Heartbreak is the National Anthem

by mikarala



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chasing Liberty AU, European Adventure, M/M, Misuse of technology, Reel 1988
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-21 09:10:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10682196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikarala/pseuds/mikarala
Summary: Patrick Kane is trouble.Or, Patrick Kane is the son of the President of the United States. Jonathan Toews works for the Secret Service. Emphasis on the 'secret'.





	Heartbreak is the National Anthem

**Author's Note:**

> Idek with this fic. I was really excited to write a Chasing Liberty AU, because I honestly really love the rom-com and I liked the idea of Patrick Kane being the son of the POTUS and Jonny being his bodyguard, but this fic unfortunately didn't live up to the lofty ideas I had for it.
> 
> I'd like to apologize to the moderators of Reel 1988, because I'm submitting this story like four days after the due date when I had two months to write it. Still, I'm mostly just proud to have finished it, because I'm usually pretty terrible at finishing anything longer than 2K words. 
> 
> Anyways, this is my first contribution to the 1988 fandom. Unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine. I hope that you readers like the story more than I do. Thanks and enjoy. :)

**President Kane Talks About Nobel Prize, But Not His Son**

 

_ Yesterday, President Kane sat down with the New York Times to discuss the Nobel Peace Prize he won last week. The President, a leader who miraculously manages to be popular with Republicans, Democrats, and the American people, has left a lasting impact on the world in a mere six years in office. This award was just the latest sign of the admiration his presidency has received. In his interview, President Kane talked not only about the events in the South China Sea that led to his nomination, but also candidly about his own life, telling the Times how much his family supported and inspired him. _

_ The only member of his family not mentioned by name? Why, the only one the public wants to hear about! Patrick Kane Jr., a student at Harvard University, is notorious for his wild ways, a topic the President has been reluctant to comment on ever since they became an issue. Instead, the President talked about his three daughters and wife, all well-loved by the public. However, it is the lack of a comment that seems most concerning. Is this a sign of the President trying to distance himself from his adult son? White House officials refuted the idea, but it’s hard to miss the writing on the wall...  _

 

\---

 

Patrick catches the eye of the hot brunette at the bar yet again, smirking enticingly at him for the third time in the past ten minutes as he dances along to some French electro-pop. The club is sweltering under the humid Parisian summer, and everyone is flushed with the heat. Patrick can feel sweat dripping down his spine, and the guy he’s been staring at has a blush attractively coloring his cheeks. Otherwise, he looks aloof to his surroundings, sporadically speaking with the bartender and holding Patrick’s eyes when he feels him looking. 

This pattern holds for one more song, Patrick exchanging teasingly flirtatious expressions for a heavy, enigmatic gaze, before it’s broken by the object of Patrick’s interest finally returning his smiles, quirking his lip slightly in a charming smirk. Patrick takes that as a signal, and shoves his way off the dance floor towards the bar. 

He asks the bartender for a finger of whiskey, using one of the very few French phrases he bothered to learn before flying to the country. “Hm, what’s this?” Patrick hears, in perfect English, his target leaning in close. “An American?” 

“What gave it away?” Patrick quips, a wry grin. It gets him a laugh, brown eyes crinkling in an expression that’s much sweeter than any Patrick’s seen yet. 

“That’s one of the worst accents I’ve ever heard,” is the solemn answer. “Jonny, by the way.”

“Patrick,” he returns, taking a fortifying taste of his whiskey. It sends a bolt of warmth down his throat. The heat fills him with tense anticipation.

“Patrick, the starry-eyed American tourist,” Jonny says, a teasing note in his voice, “here to experience that famous French romance.” Patrick laughs softly, and turns his head slightly so that his nose brushes against Jonny’s cheek.

“Or maybe I’m just looking for some fun,” he breathes against Jonny’s ear, suggestive. 

Jonny stares at him with heavy-lidded eyes, his pupils big and black, for a long moment. Patrick feels his own heartbeat speed up, hot blood racing through his veins, before Jonny eliminates the remaining space between them, scraping his teeth gently against Patrick’s lower lip in the barest bite, and then diving in the rest of the way, lips incongruously soft and demanding against Patrick’s own. Jonny’s hand comes up to slide against the sweat-slicked skin at the back of Patrick’s neck, changing the angle and deepening their kiss.

They remain that way for a long, sensual minute, pulling each other back into the embrace each time they move back for a breath. When they finally separate, the air between them seems static, filled with expectation. Patrick huffs out a sigh, watching the rise and fall of Jonny’s chest.

“Want to get out of here?” Jonny asks.

Patrick smiles. “Lead the way,” he says, and they settle their tab. Patrick finishes off the rest of his whiskey. Jonny’s drink lies abandoned on the countertop, some kind of clear liquor. Maybe Jonny’s a G&T kind of guy, Patrick muses.

The air outside is somewhat sobering. The June night is still warm, but it’s been dark for hours now, and the air isn’t sweltering the way it felt in the club. Patrick feels his fervor dull to a slow burn as he takes a deep inhale of fresh air .

Patrick flags down a cab, giving Jonny the name of his hotel to translate to the driver. Patrick sits back in the seat, his shoulder brushing against Jonny’s arm, which is partially covered in a plain white T-shirt. It’s a good look, particularly against his smooth tanned skin. 

They enjoy the drive in silence for a bit. The streets change from cement to cobblestone as they travel closer to the center of the city, and the glow of the moon illuminates its natural charm. Patrick’s not usually sentimental, but he’s in a beautiful city with a beautiful guy, and for the first time in a while he’s not feeling stressed and paranoid, so Patrick leans over in the back seat of the cab to steal a quick kiss, his hand coming up to frame Jonny’s jaw.

“You looked so good, I just had to kiss you,” Patrick offers by way of explanation, dropping his hand so that his fingers entangle with Jonny’s. He gets a sweet smile in return.

“So how long are you in Paris for?” Jonny asks. Patrick grins at him.

“We’re trying out small talk now, are we?” he teases. Jonny shoots him an irritated look, and Patrick hastens to answer. “Just a couple more days, I guess,” he offers. “I have a while before I have to go home, so I didn’t want to bother with a strict schedule.”

“You came the France by yourself?”

Patrick sighs a bit, not bothering to hide his upset. “I came with a friend, but he had an emergency and had to fly home.”

Jonny nods understandingly. “Where is home?”

Patrick hopes the sudden tension in his body, the way his spine stiffens slightly, isn’t obvious to Jonny. “I’m a student at Harvard,” he deflects carefully. “What about you?” he asks. “You speak English with a perfect American accent.”

“My dad is American,” Jonny says, rolling his eyes, “but my mom is French. Well, French-Canadian,” he amends. “So I know both.”

“Huh,” Patrick says, rolling the window down slightly so he can enjoy the gentle breeze of wind. “You ever return to the States?”

“Now and then,” Jonny returns vaguely. Patrick raises an eyebrow, but chooses to drop it. Ultimately, this is a hookup, and if Jonny doesn’t want to share his life’s story, that’s fine. Patrick doesn’t either. It’s already a minor miracle that Jonny doesn’t recognize him. 

They don’t talk again until they reach Patrick’s hotel. It’s pretty posh, in a stereotypically Parisian way, and Patrick momentarily worries Jonny’s going to comment on it when they walk into lavishly decorated lobby. There’s a slight pause in Jonny’s steps, but otherwise he doesn’t react. 

Instead, when they get to Patrick’s room, Jonny doesn’t waste any time with pleasantries, just pushes Patrick up against the door. Patrick tilts his head back, and curls his fingers around Jonny’s waist, creeping his hand under the hem of Jonny’s shirt. His thumb brushes against the hard muscle of Jonny’s abdomen, and Patrick groans into their kiss.

“Let me get this off you,” he breathes, dragging the white fabric up, while his lips move down to mouth against the column of Jonny’s throat. Patrick presses his teeth softly against Jonny’s collarbone, causing him to moan and push himself off Patrick. His pupils are wide and his breathing is heavy. Patrick pulls the shirt all the way up Jonny’s chest, and Jonny raises his arms so it can go the rest of the way. 

Once he’s returned the favor, Patrick pauses and takes in the sight in front of him. God, Jonny’s hot. Patrick smirks.

“Come on, then,” he says. “I thought we were going to have some fun.” 

 

\---

 

An hour and a pair of blowjobs later, Patrick is asleep and Jonny is barely stopping his panic from overwhelming him. Fuck, that was totally not part of his mission. Jonny can’t even blame it on alcohol, because all he drank at the club tonight was water. The intoxicating feeling he’s been experiencing all night was purely Patrick, with his sly smiles and provocative gaze.

Jonny slips out of the bed and goes into the bathroom to make a call. A minute later, he’s climbing back under the sheets, lying flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling. It’s an uninteresting beige in this hotel room, and completely fails at distracting his from the thoughts whirring through his mind. 

Three years into his job, and this is easily the biggest screw-up he’s ever made. Jonny doesn’t know what exactly he was thinking, just that he probably wasn’t. God, if anyone finds out, he’s definitely getting fired. His father would be so disappointed in him.

Patrick makes a snuffling sound and rolls over onto his side, his head coming to rest right against Jonny’s shoulder. Jonny looks at him, taking in the peaceful expression on his sleeping face. He feels sick with himself. The worst thing is, he actually likes Patrick. If it really had just been an innocent meeting at a club, Jonny would have done the same thing he did tonight, just without the guilt.

He sighs. Normally working for the Secret Service is more straight-forward than this.

The worst thing, Jonny thinks, is that as insane as this mission is, it’s easily the most important one he’s ever been assigned. He’s spent the past couple years working at the U.S. embassy in France. Protecting the President’s son, even under cover, is a huge promotion, and he’s screwed it up before even getting started. The President has sent him instructions to follow at a distance, apparently concerned about his son finding a way to lose his bodyguards. When that happened, Jonny still had an eye on him, able to ensure his safety. But he wasn’t supposed to make contact. 

Jonny sighs again, but closes his eyes. He can’t do anything about his fuck-up now, not without making things worse. Best to get some sleep while he can. He lets himself drift into an uneasy slumber.

 

\---

 

Patrick wakes to a beeping sound. At first he thinks it’s an alarm, but once he realizes he definitely didn’t set one, he knows exactly what’s going on. “Fuck,” he curses.

He scrabbles for his phone. He put a GPS tracker on Eddie’s phone, and if the alert is going off, it’s because they know where he is.  _ Fuck. _ He has to get out of here before they arrive.

Patrick looks over at Jonny, who apparently is a deep sleeper, because he’s still out cold. Patrick grimaces, but shakes Jonny awake. He grumbles, but opens his eyes a crack, squinting at Patrick. “What,” he demands, but starts to sit up. “Time to go?”

“Yes, sorry, but I’ll need you to come with me,” Patrick apologizes, knowing he sounds literally crazy, especially because he’s started gathering up things to dump in his suitcase.

There’s a pause. “...Why?” 

“Um,” Patrick thinks, “I don’t suppose saying you’re better off not knowing would help?” He grabs his MacBook and shoves it rather indelicately into his messenger bag, along with a tangle of cords he doesn’t bother unravelling. Jonny surveys the Patrick’s flurry of packing from the bed, the sheets pooling in his lap and showing off his gorgeous abs. God, they look even better in daylight. Patrick forgets what he was doing.

“Maybe you should put on some pants before you go on the run from the feds,” Jonny comments wryly.

“Oh, yeah,” Patrick says, grabbing the closest pair. “Wait, what? I’m not wanted by the feds!”  
Jonny raises an eyebrow. “Why are we in such a rush, then?” he asks.

“Um, time to check out,” Patrick lies. “Come on, let’s go,” Patrick pulls him out of the bed, gathering up Jonny’s clothes from last night and shoving them at him. Jonny takes them with a dirty look, and Patrick pulls on his own. 

“Weirdest morning after ever,” Jonny grumbles, even as he starts folding the pile of clothes in Patrick’s suitcase. 

“We don’t have time for that, Mr. Neat Freak,” Patrick says, grabbing his phone from the nightstand and surveying the room to see if he’s forgetting anything important. There’s nothing, so Patrick just zips up his suitcase and ushers Jonny out of the room, feeling guilty and embarrassed even as he does so. God, he’s being ridiculous and acting like a total douche. He should probably just tell Jonny what’s going on. 

But what if Jonny’s actually heard the stories about him and just didn’t recognize his face? Plus, if Jonny asks too many questions, Eddie and Brenda might catch up to them, and Patrick can’t have that. He’ll just get them both in a cab as quickly as he can, and then drop Jonny off wherever he wants before leaving Paris and going...well, wherever the first train he finds takes him.

Patrick impatiently waits in the hotel lobby for the receptionist to check him out, checking his phone again to see where his bodyguards are now. When he sees what’s on the screen, he immediately looks up again and looks outside to the busy street. How are they getting here so fast? And how the hell did they know where to find him, anyways?

He doesn’t see them yet, fortunately, so he grabs Jonny’s hand and all but drags him outside to flag down a taxi. 

“It’s too early for this to be the check out time,” Jonny says, even as he slides into the car. Patrick doesn’t have an answer for that. God, he’s such an asshole. 

“I’m really sorry, okay? I’ll take you home, I prom-- _ oh shit. _ ”

Jonny cranes his neck around to see where Patrick’s looking. Walking down the crowded sidewalk, eyes clearly set on Patrick, are a man and a woman dressed in dark business-casual clothing. Patrick curses again and scrambles into the cab, yelling for the train station in godawful French and waiting anxiously for the taxi to drive away.

“God, look, I am so, so sorry,” he pleads with Jonny. “I know this is crazy, I really do, I just can’t let them catch up to me. It’s nothing bad, I swear, I know it doesn’t look like it but I’m not some kind of criminal, I just...I’m sorry.”

Jonny stares at him, eyes very deer-in-the-headlights, but slowly nods. “Okay, but...I think your friends are following us.” He points out the window, to another cab slightly behind and to their right. The windows of it aren’t tinted, so Patrick can see Eddie and Brenda are, indeed, trailing them. 

“Fuck,” Patrick says, still staring out the window. “Can you, um, ask the driver to go faster?” Jonny gives him a judgemental look, but presumably does so, because when he says something in French, their cab speeds up.

It’s a twenty minute drive to the train station, even speeding. They don’t lose Patrick’s bodyguards, but he wasn’t really expecting to. Patrick hands their driver a wad of Euros, probably double the actual cost of the cab fare, but he doesn’t have time for negotiation. Instead, he grabs Jonny’s hand and his suitcase, and rushes out to the terminal.

“What’s the next train?” he demands of Jonny, unable to read the French. Jonny scans it over.

“Uh...Barcelona. Platform 11 in five minutes,” he says. 

“Great,” Patrick says, rushing in that direction. He’s seen Eddie and Brenda enter the station, and it will probably only be a matter of seconds before they see him. 

“Wait, but we need to buy tickets!” Jonny insists.

“No time!” Patrick answers. Jonny huffs, but still hustles alongside him as they rush up a flight of stairs.

They get to the platform with a minute to spare. Patrick shoves his way to the doors, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He’s fairly certain Eddie and Brenda caught sight of where they were headed, but he didn’t want to be slowed down by even the small amount of time it would take to turn and look. The doors of the train close mere seconds after Patrick and Jonny clamber on, and Patrick lets out a huge sigh of relief, heart still pounding. He looks out onto the platform, and sure enough, his bodyguards are both standing there, staring straight back at him. Patrick smiles back even as the train begins to pull away.

Barcelona, here he comes. 

 

\---

 

“So,” Jonny drawls, once they settle into a compartment. “Those guys back there.”

Patrick grimaces, then shrugs. “I’m...sorry? Again?” he tries, praying that for once in his life things would be easy. Why were things never easy?

Jonny crosses his arms over his chest and levels Patrick with an impressively dead-eyed glare. A minute passes in silence, amplifying the rattling of the train. Patrick finds himself wishing, not for the first time in the past few hours, that Tyler hadn’t returned to the States. Someone else could have taken care of the dogs.

Finally, Jonny just scoffs and averts his gaze, staring out the window. “Whatever,” he says. Patrick relaxes, kicking his feet up on the extra space next to Jonny. Jonny shoves them back off, squinting meanly. Patrick doesn’t blame the guy, to be honest. He’s actually surprised Jonny isn’t asking more questions.

The thing is, Patrick never meant for anyone to get caught up in the crossfire of his plan. For the past seven years, ever since his father won the party nomination, Patrick’s had a protection detail. When he was living at the White House and attending state functions more often, that was mostly fine. But starting his first year at Harvard, they became problematic. It was weird having bodyguards standing outside his dorm room. Most people were too intimidated to talk to him. 

And yes, Patrick knows he didn’t handle that well, he’s had enough lectures about underaged drinking and bad publicity to last him a lifetime, but he still wanted a chance to do things on his own. Most people got a shot at independence once they went off to college, away from adult supervision. Patrick wants that, just for a bit. He and Tyler, his roommate freshman year and the only person from school he’s close to, planned to do this together. Even when Tyler had to rush back to the States, Patrick found himself still going through with the plan.

It wasn’t too hard to ditch his bodyguards, not for Patrick. The fact of the matter is that, as an engineering major that grew up playing around with Java, he’s much more adept with technology than they are. He knows how to cover his tracks so that they can’t find him, and Patrick doubts Eddie’s realized Patrick put that GPS tracker on his phone. 

And it all would have gone really well if they hadn’t found out where he was staying last night. Patrick’s best guess is that one of the hotel employees somehow leaked the information, which unsettles him for more than one reason, but mainly because it obviously means that they’ll still be able to following him. He just really wishes he hadn’t gotten Jonny caught up in his quest for freedom. This whole thing wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. Maybe he was naive to think it wouldn’t be. His dad is categorically un-chill. Patrick just hopes this doesn’t turn into another publicity issue. His parents don’t deserve that, and Jonny doesn’t deserve to be caught up in this drama just because he happened to hook up with a stranger that’s the son of the POTUS.

Jonny seems to be taking it all strangely well, though. Besides appearing vaguely tired, and neither of them had gotten much sleep last night, he doesn’t look like he’s really angry, even though he has every right to be. Instead, he’s just staring sort of mindlessly out the window, as the scenes outside become gradually more rural.

He deserves the truth. Just because Patrick leads a totally insane life, doesn’t mean innocent people like Jonny should get involved. Patrick gnaws on his bottom lip for a minute while he grapples with how to explain himself.

“Look, Jonny,” he says, words coming out slowly. Jonny turns to him. “You should know the reason this is happening. I know I seem pretty crazy, and this whole escaping to another country thing is just...well, I want you to know why, I guess.”

Jonny just stares at him. Patrick can’t read his expression.

He soldiers on. “So, I guess I’m lucky you didn’t recognize me, because most Americans are pretty familiar with my face right now…” The image of the news headlines, everywhere from his school newspaper to CNN, flashes through his head. People know him, and for all of the wrong reasons. Patrick really doesn’t want Jonny to judge him even worse once he finds out who Patrick is.

But Jonny deserves to know, since Patrick’s already let him get caught up in all this. “My father is...well, he’s President Kane. And those two people chasing us back there are my bodyguards, from the Secret Service. I ditched them yesterday, and I’m sorry for getting you involved in that. It really wasn’t my intention.”

Jonny keeps staring at Patrick, his eyes growing steadily wider, as Patrick finishes his confession. It’s disconcerting, truth be told. There’s a solid minute of silence, before Jonny finally asks, “Why?”

“...Why am I telling you?” Patrick wonders.

“No,” Jonny answering, shaking his head and waving his hand. It’s a distinctly French movement. “Why did you ditch them?”

Oh. That. How does he explain wanting to have one experience that’s all his own without sounding completely selfish? That’s what the reporters always call him. Selfish for not thinking about his father’s career. His mom always tells him to think about the consequences of his actions. Patrick doesn’t know how to express his need for independence without contradicting those instructions.

Patrick frowns as he struggles for words. “I guess...there are things I want to do, that I can’t with my bodyguards, with people knowing I’m the President’s son.” Patrick lets out a frustrated sigh and rubs his eyebrow, because that’s not exactly it, but trying to describe exactly how he feels just seems stupid. Jonny’s face has softened, though.

“What kind of things?” he asks, gently. Patrick purses his lips.

“Well, I’ve got tickets to Tomorrowland I’m not going to let go to waste,” Patrick says, trying to lighten the tension that’s formed between them by infusing his words with the teasing flirtation they shared last night. It doesn’t work, because Jonny just aims a frown at him.

“That’s an EDM festival right?” he asks, tone totally judgemental. Patrick bristles.

“Yeah, so? It looks like fun!” Jonny shakes his head disbelievingly, but also relaxes and puts his hands behind his head. 

“What, you don’t think so?” Patrick challenges. Jonny laughs.

“Yeah, not really my idea of a good time,” he says dryly. Patrick considers him, eyes narrowed.

“I bet I could make you like it,” he says. Jonny looks surprised, and then amused. 

“I highly doubt that,” he responds, even as he’s grinning. Patrick smiles back, largely because he’s so relieved that Jonny’s taken everything in stride. Honestly, he’s been unbelievably nonplussed about everything, which would be almost suspicious except for the fact that Patrick’s not one to look the gift horse in the mouth. He likes Jonny too much anyways. Patrick doesn’t want to stop seeing him.

“Try me. I have an extra ticket since my friend went home. If your strangely free schedule that allows you to join me on a random trip to Spain extends another week from now, come to Belgium with me.” Patrick’s smiling the same way he did last night, the one that comes off as charming but maybe a touch too polished. He is a politician’s son after all, those kinds of smiles are second nature, but the honest-to-God truth is that he hopes Jonny agrees. 

Jonny appraises him, probably ascertaining Patrick’s sincerity. “If I’m free a week from now...well, maybe,” he says. 

“That’s all I’m asking for,” Patrick smiles. Jonny grunts, closing his eyes. The atmosphere in their train compartment has calmed down, the nervous energy from before dissipated. 

“Thanks for not freaking out,” he offers after a few minutes of silence. Jonny tenses, looking surprised. 

“It’s not…” Jonny starts, struggling for words, “the fact that you’re father’s the President...that’s not who you are.”

“No, I know,” Patrick says, touched because he’s already realized that Jonny’s not the emotional or comforting type. “But still. Thanks.”

Jonny blushes slightly, averting his eyes to look back out the window. “Yeah, well, it’s true. You said you’re studying at Harvard, right? That’s impressive.” Patrick smiles, because honestly, it is, and people rarely acknowledge it. He’s not sure if it’s because everyone assumes he only got in because of his father’s name, but regardless, he’s at the top of his class in one of the best programs in the world. He deserves some credit for that. “What are you studying?” Jonny asks.

“Oh, uh, Engineering,” Patrick answers. “Mechanical.” And he loves it. A lot of his life has turned into a bit of a mess, which is largely why Patrick wanted to travel and get away from everything, but his classes at Harvard are everything he imagined they would be. He’s learning from some of the smartest people he’s ever met, and his peers love it just as much as he does. It’s a far cry from grade school, where he felt like he always had to cover up how much he liked numbers and science to fit in with his peers. 

At this point in his life, though, Patrick is done trying to fit in with people. He did that freshman year, acting out a bit in hopes that it would get people to ignore the constant presence of bodyguards, and all it did was get himself caught in a scandal about his much-exaggerated partying lifestyle. That’s an image he still hasn’t managed to shake with the public, and the worst thing about it is that it’s left a stain on his father’s presidency, having his son get caught breaking the law. His father has always had immense popularity with the public, completely scandal-free. Patrick’s transgressions are the biggest mark against his father’s career. 

That’s why this trip, an escape from his life, is so necessary. Patrick just needs a break from being the President’s son, from the constant scrutiny and supervision. He hadn’t wanted to share this adventure with Tyler, but he can’t say he exactly regrets that he’s ended up spending his time with Jonny instead.

Patrick considers Jonny, this stranger he’s barely getting to know, someone who has accidentally gotten swept up in Patrick’s absurd life and taken it all in stride. He smiles to himself, settling back into his seat. He got lucky with this one. 

 

\---

 

Barcelona is beautiful in the light of the afternoon sun. Jonny would enjoy it more if he didn’t feel so guilty. Back on the train, when Patrick had come clean to him, Jonny had felt like even more of a fraud. The feeling hasn’t really left, not even roughly six hours later. The rest of the trip had passed mostly quiet, while they napped and ate lunch, but they had talked a bit more. Jonny had felt like he owed Patrick at least something personal in return for being so honest about himself, so he talked about growing up in Manitoba with his little brother, summers spent with his mother’s family in Quebec. He didn’t mention his father’s lengthy absences, or his subsequent death, or the way his mother and brother didn’t understand why Jonny had chosen to follow in his father’s footsteps. 

Still, Patrick listens carefully and doesn’t interrupt with stories of his own, probably much more interesting, childhood. His expression the whole time is relaxed, like telling the truth has put him at peace. Jonny wishes he could be honest in return. It’s become even more difficult to keep up a facade of a random civilian who got swept up in this adventure the more time Jonny spends with Patrick, even though Jonny desperately wishes that was the truth.

It’s not long before sunset when they arrive, so Patrick suggests finding a hotel to stay at. “I have a secure bank account, it’s not a problem, the least I can do,” he reassures Jonny. He also offers to buy Jonny some clothes and toiletries, so they do that. When they get to the hotel, Jonny half-expects the flirting from last night to start up again, but it doesn’t. Their hotel room, again in the heart of the downtown and probably costing a ridiculous amount to book last-minute, has two queen beds, and Patrick settles into his own easily. 

“I’m not really up for going out tonight,” he says. “But maybe we could try the hotel restaurant?”

And like that, they spend their evening enjoying steaks and sharing a bottle red wine before heading heading back up to their room and laughing as they try to figure out how to work the subtitles on the Spanish show that’s on the TV, giggling as they do so. There’s no kind of subtext to it, either, the way there was last night. It feels like friendship. Jonny goes to sleep that night smiling, letting himself forget for a little what he’s doing there in the first place.

The next morning Patrick again wakes him up early, this time because he wants to be a tourist. Jonny lets Patrick drag him on a tour of all the Gaudi buildings, watching the way the Patrick’s face lights up at the modernist architecture. “I thought you were an Engineering major,” Jonny comments as they walk through the museum of the Sagrada Familia.

“Well, sure,” Patrick says, “but I appreciate anything this well-designed. It’s beautiful.” 

That it is, Jonny has to admit. He’s never been to Barcelona before; any breaks he got from work were spent travelling back to Canada to see his mother and brother. He likes it, though. And not just for the architecture. There’s a kind of energy and enthusiasm that’s palpable in the air. They seem to have been somewhat lucky, because there aren’t as many tourists around as Jonny was expecting. It feels a bit more special, and intimate, that way. Jonny has spent enough time living in Europe that he thought he was immune to that feeling, but maybe he was just ignoring it.

After a long day trekking around the city, they find a tapas restaurant to eat dinner. The table is small and quarters are crowded, but the food and atmosphere are fantastic, so Patrick and Jonny end up lingering there over a couple of beers each. It’s strange, really, because they don’t actually have much in common, but Jonny listens attentively as Patrick opens up, sharing fond memories of his sisters. He looks relaxed and...well, happy, honestly, which makes Jonny feel proud, but also somewhat morose. Jonny’s not the type of person to lie to himself, he knows he’s started to develop feelings for Patrick, and he can tell Patrick likes him too. Or, rather, likes who he thinks Jonny is. If he knew the truth, the only thing he would feel for Jonny would be disgust.

Jonny’s conflicted thoughts should put a damper on the evening, but they don’t. When they finally wrap up dinner, neither of them feel quite like heading back to the hotel yet, so they wind up finding a bar to get a couple more drinks at. It’s right on the beach, so they can feel the warm Mediterranean breeze on their faces as they sip their drinks. 

“I never asked you earlier,” Patrick says after a brief silence where they both appreciate the sight of the waves rolling up to the shore, “but if you’re from North America, what are you doing in Europe?”

Jonny blinks, surprised. “Um, studying abroad,” he improvises, even though he’s a few years out of university at this point.

Patrick sighs. “I should study abroad,” he muses. “I like it here.” He rests his head on his arm, face turned toward Jonny. His cheeks are a bit flushed, his eyes hooded. He looks fucking beautiful. Jonny can’t help himself as he leans in, lips brushing questioningly against Patrick’s as he asks for permission. Patrick opens his mouth invitingly, and Jonathan takes advantage, pressing his lips urgently against Patrick’s. They stay like that for minutes, only breaking apart to breath a couple of times before diving back in. Jonny feels dizzy with arousal, or maybe it’s just the alcohol. God, he wishes that there was a future here. The thought of the time limit on his relationship with Patrick just makes him press in harder in effort to forget it.

The universe seems to have other plans for him, however. Just when Jonny’s about to ask Patrick if he wants to head back to their hotel room, he hears his phone ring. He freezes, then reluctantly pulls away from Patrick, knowing he can’t ignore reality any longer. He’s been putting off reporting in for over a day now. It’s time to face the fact that he’s here on a mission.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes to Patrick, “I have to take this.” He’s sliding out of his chair even before Patrick nods his assent, walking a bit away before he answers the call. 

“Jonathan Toews,” he states, trying to project more confidence than he feels. 

“Agent Toews?” he hears, and immediately feels his back stiffen in shock. He recognizes that voice, and it’s not the one he was expecting to be on the other line.

“Yes, Mr. President,” he responds. So far he’s been reporting to the agents in charge of Patrick’s protection, updating them on Patrick’s location. He hasn’t contacted them since they left Paris over a day ago, putting it off as long as possible. 

“Agent Toews,” the President repeats, “I’m looking for an update on my son’s whereabouts. Agents Long and Hutson reported he was last seen with you.”

“Yes, sir,” Jonny says. “I haven’t had an opportunity to report back, but we are currently in Barcelona, staying at The Serras Hotel Barcelona.” It takes effort to keep his voice even, dreading what he knows will be the President’s next words.

“I thought your instructions were to follow my son at a distance,” the President says.

“Yes, sir,” Jonny confirms. “My position was compromised. Your son approached me, and I thought the best course of action was to ingratiate myself with him. We are now travelling together.” Jonny waits anxiously, hoping that the practiced explanation, which glosses over all the unprofessional details of how, exactly, Jonny came to join in on Patrick’s trip, is accepted.

“I see,” is the response after a lengthy pause. “Keep me updated. Agents Long and Hutson will be following up with you.”

“Yes, of course, Mr. President,” Jonny acquiesces.  President Kane hangs up then, leaving Jonny to breathe out heavily, taking a moment to slow his racing heart before he looks back to the table he’s sharing with Patrick. 

But the table is empty. Jonny looks around wildly for a sign of those blonde curls, but there’s nothing. Patrick is gone.

 

\---

 

Patrick watches hazily for a moment as Jonny walks away to answer his phone before he decides to get up a find a bathroom. His search has him walking past Jonny, but what he hears makes him freeze in shock and disbelief at what he hears.

“ _ Mr. President...report back...currently in Barcelona... _ ” 

Patrick doesn’t stick around to hear anymore. Forgetting all about his desire to use the bathroom, he uses the exit on the other side of the bar to run toward the street. Unbelievably, he feels tears pricking at his eyes as he rushes away, feeling hurt and somehow even betrayed, by a guy he’s only known for two days. It’s ridiculous, it really is, but Patrick had actually been falling for him. He liked this stranger who impossibly took crazy car chases and wild explanations all in stride, and still showed interest afterwards. It turns out it was even more impossible than Patrick knew. Here he thought he was being such an imposition, dragging Jonny around with him, but the reality was that Jonny wanted that, because Jonny  _ was with the Secret Service _ .

Even as Patrick thinks it, he’s shaking his head amazement. Maybe he should have expected that his father would know Patrick’s plan to ditch Eddie and Brenda after Patrick asked to go to Europe without any bodyguards, but he hadn’t. And he never could have imagined his father arranging to have a special agent impersonate a random civilian just to keep a closer eye on Patrick. It’s all so insane. His life is so fucking insane.

Patrick flags down a cab as his incredulity transforms into anger. His father being this over-protective and careful is one thing, and Patrick can understand it even as it makes his gut twist. Finding out the guy he was falling for is really just some agent doing his job, though? It fills Patrick with rage.

Patrick has the cab wait for him outside the hotel as he goes up to grab his things. It’s not even ten minutes before he gets back downstairs, hoping to clear out before Jonny can catch up to him. From there, the only place Patrick wants is out of this wretched city. He instructs the driver to head to the airport, still simmering.

He wonders if other people have to deal with this kind of shit. Is it really that much to ask for a little freedom from his parents? He’s twenty-one now, and nobody trusts him to take care of himself. It’s a goddamn joke. Patrick feels more tears leak out before his angrily brushes them away. It’s dumb to be this hurt, this frustrated, but he can’t help it. Patrick finds himself fiercely missing Tyler’s presence, the way his friend is always able to cheer Patrick up, and then his sisters, who are always on his side. Maybe this trip was a bad idea after all.

Patrick shakes his head.  _ Jonny _ was the bad idea, not the trip. Once he gets out Barcelona, he’ll have his freedom, and it will have all been worth it. And he’ll never have to see Jonny again.

 

**Five Days Later**

 

Jonny’s never been to an outdoor festival before, but even then he imagines not many can compare to the scale of Tomorrowland. The small town of Boom, Belgium, is teeming with people decked out in festival gear. Jonny feels somewhat out-of-place in his plain jeans and T-shirt, but he’s not here for fun like everyone else. He’s here on a mission.

It might be an impossible mission, Jonny has to admit to himself as he surveys the size of the crowd. But he has to try. No doubt Patrick doesn’t want to be found, especially not by him, but that doesn’t matter now. Jonny just wants the chance to apologize. After he realized that Patrick had run out on him at the bar in Barcelona, he realized Patrick must have heard him on the phone. The thought, even now, fills him with disgust at himself. Here was a guy Jonny was falling for, a guy who had come totally clean with him, and Jonny was reporting back to Patrick’s father about their whereabouts, when he knew all Patrick wanted was a little independence. 

Jonny hasn’t called the President back for the past five days. He’s only grudgingly talked with Agent Long  twice about Tomorrowland, feeling sick with himself as he did so. After that he couldn’t bear to say reveal anything else. He knows he’s likely guaranteed he’s going to lose his job, if his silence hasn’t already signalled his resignation, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to be the kind of person who lies to people about who he is. Not again.

Jonny spends a couple hours wandering around the venue, shoving through people, going to stages he thinks Patrick would like based on the little he knows about the other’s music tastes. It’s dumb, he knows, because he mistakes about a dozen different men for Patrick but never finds the real one. Jonny doesn’t know what else to do, though. This is his only chance to apologize, to try to right his wrongs.

He’s just about ready to give up on his plan as truly foolhardy, though, when he hears a murmur go through the crowd.

“Is that the President’s son?” Someone says with a British accent. Jonny nearly gives himself whiplash as he spins his head around, eyes searching frantically for the person they’re talking about.

He can’t see Patrick right away, not with this many people around, but after Jonny uses his significant physical advantage to push some people aside, he finds him, almost unable to believe his own eyes when he recognizes him. It’s undeniable, though, Jonny knows those curls, that jawline. 

Patrick is wasted. It’s immediately apparent to Jonny that the flush to his skin isn’t just from the summer heat. His pupils are dilated, his brow furrowed in confusion at all the stares he’s receiving, and he’s stumbling around a bit, sloshing his beer. People are gathered around him, their concentration shifting from the performance on stage to the scene Patrick’s making. A couple of people have phone cameras out, apparently eager to record the infamously drunken son of the United States’ President live up to his bad reputation.

“Patrick!” Jonny exclaims, rushing in before Patrick can trip over his own feet.

“...Jonny?” Patrick asks, momentarily puzzled and pliant before he seems to come to his senses and tries pushing Jonny away. Jonny holds on, easily capable of overpowering Patrick in his current state, but he does allow for some more distance between them.

“Go  _ away _ , Jonny,” Patrick insists, now truly angry. “I never wanted to see you again,” he says, unaware of how much the words sting Jonny. It’s fair, though, Jonny reminds himself. He lied to Patrick. 

“I’m sorry for that,” Jonny says, as sincerely as he can. It’s probably a wasted effort, seeing how drunk Patrick is, but he has to say it. “I’m so sorry. But you’re a mess. We should get out of here.”

Patrick recoils, his face a mask of defiance. “What? No! Just leave me alone!”

Jonny tenses, unsure of what to do. He has to get Patrick out of here. In his current state, with with attention he’s attracted, it’s not safe for him to be alone here. There’s a helicopter waiting to take Patrick home, Jonny just has to get him to it.

“I’m sorry,” Jonny apologizes again, feeling like a broken record, before he grabs Patrick around the waist and starts dragging him out of the crowd. Patrick struggles for a bit, before seeming to become cognizant of what all the cell phone cameras mean. After that, he gives up and allows himself to be towed away by Jonny.

Patrick’s eyes are bitter and dark once they finally make it to the copter, where Agents Long and Hutson are waiting. Patrick begins to follow the two bodyguards on, but stops when Jonny doesn’t move to follow them onto the vehicle.

“You’re not coming?” he asks acidically.

“No,” Jonny answers as evenly as he can, even as his heart pangs. 

Patrick scoffs. “Good riddance,” is his only comment, before he gets on and flies away. Jonny watches as the helicopter fades out of sight, trying to ignore how alone he feels. 

 

**Six Months Later**

 

Christmas at the White House is always a big event. Patrick should be used to it, but after a quiet semester at Harvard, the swirl of activity surrounding the holiday preparations is unsettling. Patrick spends most of his time tucked away in the private rooms of the Executive Residence, avoiding the commotion as much as possible.

Patrick’s sisters comment on his introverted behavior, but don’t actually give him a hard time about it. Instead, the four of them end up spending an entire evening ironically marathoning House of Cards in the movie theatre.  

“Seriously, though, Patty, you’re alright?” Erica asks him afterwards, when it’s just the two of them. Patrick gives her a wan smile.

“I will be,” he reassures her. He should be already, truth be told, but the past six months have been difficult on him, as he’s strived to forget about Jonny. He spent two days with the guy, but the impression those days left on his memory isn’t one that will easily go away. As betrayed as he felt once he realized how Jonny had played him, he hasn’t gotten over him. Like everything else, it’s ridiculous, but remains a sad fact of Patrick’s life.

“Whatever it is,” Erica says, giving him a hug, “it’ll get easier.” He holds on to her tightly, and goes to bed that night feeling a little bit better.

His sisters aren’t the only ones who notice his withdrawn behavior. His dad drops by Patrick’s room on Christmas Eve, where Patrick’s working at his desk to get a head start in some classes for next semester. He stops when his dad opens up the door, though, frozen by the tense awkwardness that’s existed between them ever since the summer.

“Working hard,” his dad observes stiffly. Patrick nods back, making a vague noise of agreement.

“Listen, son,” his dad starts, clearly uncomfortable. “I know this summer was...um, I know we have our disagreements about what happened with your trip.” Patrick grips his pencil tightly, skin turning white, as he struggles not retaliate to those words. His father has refused to apologize for having an undercover agent stalk Patrick, and Patrick refuses to apologize for ditching Eddie and Brenda. It’s left them locked in an odd stalemate. 

“Anyways,” his dad continues, “this isn’t about that. Agent Long--” that’s Brenda, Patrick doesn’t understand why his father doesn’t just use her given name “--mentioned that you were still upset about Agent Toews.” Patrick rolls his eyes at Brenda’s interfering. At some point this semester, when Patrick was acting melancholy and generally just being a buzzkill, Tyler managed to get the full story of what happened with Jonny out of him, and, for some reason, spilled the beans to Brenda. Ever since, the two of them have been conspiring to convince him to seek out Jonny. Patrick’s heard the word ‘closure’ enough for a lifetime.

“Well, um,” his father says, uneasily clearing his throat, “if you ever want to know where he is these days.” His dad continues to stand there awkwardly while Patrick gapes at him.

“...Okay,” Patrick agrees, at a loss for what else to say. His father nods jerkily, and hastily exits Patrick’s room, leaving its remaining occupant dazedly mull over the thought. Patrick’s spent the past six months trying to convince himself that he hates Jonny, that he doesn’t even know who Jonny actually is, that seeking him out could only possibly result in heartbreak and disappointment.

But now having the option presented to him so starkly like this, he can’t deny how tempted he is. The truth is, he kind of  _ does  _ want closure. He wants to know if everything they shared was a lie, or if Jonny has been just as haunted by memories of their short time together as Patrick.

It’s this desire to find out the truth that leads Patrick to confidently tell his dad the next day, when their whole family is enjoying some well-earned private time together, Christmas cheer pervading the atmosphere, “Okay, Dad. I want to know.”

 

\---

 

Patrick slowly approaches the National Monument in Dam Square. Amsterdam is chilly in February, so it’s not very crowded. He sees the person he’s looking for right away. Jonny’s cheeks are pink with the cold, although Manitoban winters must have hardened him, because he doesn’t seem bothered. He looks good, dressed in slacks, Timberlands, and a black peacoat.

Patrick’s eyes are still locked on Jonny the moment that Jonny realizes who, exactly, is approaching him. His eyes widen in apparent shock when he recognizes Patrick. “I--what--” he stutters out, surprised. Patrick makes him wait for a long moment, before offering a small smile.

“Hey,” he offers. “I heard you quit the Secret Service.” 

“Um, yeah,” Jonny says, still a bit apprehensive and nonresponsive. “I’m, um, working as a tour guide now, actually.”

“I know,” Patrick laughs. “I think you’re supposed to show me the best sights in Amsterdam today.”

“Oh,” Jonny says, still monosyllabic. “Um...why?”

Why? It’s a question Patrick’s stopped asking himself. The truth is, he didn’t really want to be done with Jonny. Two damn days, and Patrick’s missed him ever since. The kind of connection he felt with Jonny, he realizes now, wasn’t the kind that could be completely faked. The entire time Patrick had spent travelling with Jonny last summer, he felt like he was experiencing something special, the kind of connection that only happens rarely in a lifetime. He wants to give them another chance.

He doesn’t tell Jonny any of that. “Because I booked a tour,” Patrick remarks blithely. He pauses. “Because I wanted to see you again.”

Jonny looks bowled over at those words. He opens his mouth a couple times like he’s trying to say something, then bites his bottom lip. Patrick waits patiently. “I thought you hated me,” Jonny finally admits. “And I didn’t blame you. I hated me for what I did too.”

Patrick feels a burst of warmth in his chest, because he recognizes this person. Jonny may have lied about the circumstances that brought the two of them together, but the rest of it was real. Their bond wasn’t some kind of illusion, something that only Patrick felt.

“I did,” Patrick acknowledges. “For a bit, I did.”

“Then...why?” Jonny wonders.

Patrick doesn’t answer him directly. “Tell me something about you. Something other people don’t know,” he commands.

Jonny’s still confused. “I...what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Patrick says evenly. “You know a lot of my secrets. I want to know one about you. Something that’s real.”

Jonny’s eyes clear in understanding, and he lets out a surprised, heart-felt smile. He mulls it over for a moment. “...I hate Paris,” he says, finally. Patrick blinks.

“Wait,  _ really _ ?” Patrick exclaims, genuinely surprised. Jonny laughs a little, his eyes crinkling. He looks relieved. Patrick smiles back, helpless.

“Yes, really,” Jonny repeats. “People always make fun of my French accent there.” He doesn’t look too upset about it now, radiating happiness. His eyes are bright, and his smile is tugging at the corners of his mouth. Patrick kind of wants to kiss him.

He doesn’t. Instead, he says, a slightly teasing note in his voice, “How fascinating. You seem like the kind of person I’d be interested in getting to know. I’m Patrick Kane.” He sticks out his hand, conveying with his eyes his seriousness to Jonny. “And you are?”

Jonny stares back at him, clearly understanding the significance of what Patrick’s offering. He takes Patrick’s hand.

“Jonathan Toews,” he says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos always loved. You can follow me [@mikarala](https://mikarala.tumblr.com) on Tumblr.


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